


Wonderful Mess (That We Make)

by albertenthusiast (so_real)



Series: Of Love and Other Messes [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Btw dont worry about the sprace thing racebert is endgame, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Javid is there at some point, M/M, am i doing this tag thing right?, so is sprace, this ship needs all the love please get it to sail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/so_real/pseuds/albertenthusiast
Summary: The one in which Albert is definitely not in love with his best friend, Race is sort of dating Spot and Jack and David are meddling little shits.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is my first fic EVER so please be kind to me. English isn't my first language (or my second, for the record) and this isn't betaed, so if any of you kind souls out there would like to help a girl out, it would be much appreciated. A special thanks to Maria for putting up with me as I screamed about this fic, you're a star.
> 
> I'm seriously so glad Racebert (are we calling it that?) has sailed because I've shipped it forever. 
> 
> The title is from the song Flaws by Bastille.
> 
> Now hold onto your newsboys caps and enjoy the ride!
> 
> *Edit: I found out you ppl prefer Ralbert instead of Racebert??? I'm okay with that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albert is not in love, Race has no regard for personal space and they may or may not cuddle instead of communicating.

If anybody asked, Albert would deny it with all he had. He was  _ not _ in love with his best friend. He wasn't that much of a loser yet. Yes, maybe he stared at Race all the time, and yes, maybe he lingered a little longer than necessary whenever Race hugged him, and  _ yes _ , maybe his heart did stupid flips in his chest every time Race smiled at him, but that wasn't love. And it was nobody's business anyway. It was normal, after all. He had known Race all his life, had always been his friend, it was only natural that he had  _ platonic _ feelings for him. Because that is what they were, platonic, not 'love’, for God’s sake.

Race was an amazing best friend, and Albert would never risk their lifelong friendship over some stupid  _ platonic _ feelings. Even if he was in love (which he  _ wasn't, _ thank you very much), there was no way he stood a chance. Race had a boyfriend, and even if he didn't, he would never fall for someone like Albert. Not that it mattered.

That's what Albert told himself as Race dramatically draped himself over him, sighing exaggeratedly. Ignoring the jump his heart gave, Albert wrapped his arms around Race's waist to prevent him from falling from Albert's lap onto the couch. Race grinned at him and wrapped his own arms around Albert's neck. He was always like this, sitting on Albert's lap, throwing an arm around his shoulders, hugging him tight when he got excited about things. Albert pretended to put up with it, but he treasured every single chance to touch Race.

He shot Race a questioning look, eyebrow raised, and Race sighed again, using his grip on Albert's neck to tilt backwards for emphasis. He had just come home from work and thrown himself at Albert without so much as a 'hello’, and while this in itself wasn't as unusual as it should be, Albert was still curious as to why the dramatism. He poked Race's side to urge him to answer and tried not to blush as Race giggled and squirmed on top of him.

“Why don't you have a nickname?”

The question caught him totally unprepared. He was expecting a rant about a customer or some whining about the subway (Race's usual sources of grumpiness), not some dumb question. “What?”

“I was wondering: I've known you all my life and you have never had a nickname, not even when we were kids. It's unfair.”

Albert stared dumbstruck at him for two seconds before realizing what was going on. He noticed Race's too wide grin, his tense shoulders, the way his fingers had started to tap a rhythm absentmindedly on Albert's nape, the way Race's foot was moving repeatedly against the couch cushion.  _ Something isn't right,  _ Albert thought. Race was usually fidgety but he never tried to hide it. Now it was almost as he wanted to be still but was failing. The thought of it made Albert's chest fill with unease.

He tentatively adjusted his grip on Race's waist and pretended to think about his question. “I don't know, guess I've never needed one.”

He felt Race relax and silently congratulated himself. He was dying to know what had happened to put Race on edge but was willing to wait for him to be ready to tell it. Race worked better when he felt no pressure was on him. One of Race's hands found its way to Albert's hair and he tugged on a strand.

“Well, it's not fair,” Race repeated, “I've had a nickname for years, all of our friends have nicknames, Hell, even Jack and Davey's cat's got a nickname!” That was true. The cat's name was Newton but everyone called him Grumpy because that wretched beast only loved David and hissed at whoever tried to approach him. Nobody knew who had started it, but Albert was pretty sure he had the responsable currently sitting on his lap.

“I don't see why I need a nickname, Race. What's wrong with my name?” Albert was playing along, but he was also low-key concerned about the topic. He liked his name just fine, and not having a nickname kind of made him feel special in their group of friends. He was not the most sociable person and he sometimes feared that people only tolerated him because of Race.

“Nothing’s wrong with your name, I'm just saying you should have a nickname, that's all!” Now Race was using his little kid voice, the one he used whenever he knew he was being stupid but still wanted to get away with something. Albert sighed and felt his demise was near. He couldn't say no to that voice.

“Fine, then give me a damn nickname and stop whining like a five year-old,” he said.

Race's face lit up and he hugged Albert, which, given their current position, meant he squished Albert's face against his chest with a delighted squeal. Albert counted to five mentally and then he pushed him away, hoping his cheeks weren't as red as they felt. If Race noticed his blush, he didn't mention it, instead, he seemed to be focusing on Albert's new nickname already.

“How about we start with the obvious ones? What about just A?”

Albert groaned. “I'm not the fucking villain in  _ Pretty Little Liars _ , Race.”

Race laughed at that and Albert's heart definitely didn't flip at the sound.

“Al?”

“What am I, fifty?”

“Okay, okay.” Race's face split in a malicious grin.  _ I'm gonna regret this _ . ”Albie?”

“That's it, I'm dropping you on the floor.” Race let out a squeak and held tighter onto Albert's neck, his legs kicking the air wildly.

“I was joking! I was joking!” He screamed in Albert's ear. “Please don't drop me!”

“No, I'm sorry, I have to. You have exceeded the stupidity quota I can tolerate.” Albert hooked his arm beneath Race's legs, holding him bridal style and stood up. He didn't really mean it, but it was worth hearing Race laughing like crazy while he tried to wriggle free of Albert's grasp.

Eventually he stopped moving and stared at Albert with a fake pout. “You wouldn't dare drop me on the floor.” It sounded like a challenge.

Albert looked at him dead in the eye. “Watch me,” he said, and let go of Race's legs. He thought Race would just let go of him and stand, but instead, he used the momentum to wrap his legs around Albert's waist and cling to him. “ _ What are you doing?! _ ”

Race gave him an affronted look. “You were gonna drop me, I had to improvise!”

“By koalaing me?!” It was ridiculous, Race was at least a head taller than him, and yet he was the one holding him up. Albert tried not to think about his hands holding Race's thighs.

“I was falling, I wasn't  _ thinking!” _ Race squeaked in Albert's face, which made Albert realise just how close they were. Race's quick breathing hit his cheeks and Albert felt himself blush. Race must have gotten the wrong impression, because he gave him a concerned look and tried to untangle himself from Albert. “Am I heavy? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… Spot always says-” he stopped talking abruptly and the tension returned to his body.

_ So that's it, trouble in paradise,  _ thought Albert bitterly. As it turned out, Spot was the reason Race was standing in front of him and not meeting Albert's eyes. A wave of rage hit him. He had never liked Spot, had never liked his strange ways and rough personality, no matter how many times Race told him Spot wasn't always like that.  _ You're too good for him _ , he'd told Race once. Race had laughed and brushed it aside, but that didn't settle Albert's raging heart.

“What's he done?” The hard tone of his voice surprised even Albert himself, but he needed to know. “Race, look at me, what happened?”

He tried to grab Race's arm, but Race pushed him away, still not meeting his eyes. His lower lip was quivering and his hands were shaking. His voice was a wreck when he said. “Nothing.”

Albert let out a frustrated groan. “Race, please, I know something's not okay, let me help.”

This wasn't the right thing to say apparently, because when Race finally met Albert's eyes he was furious.

“It's not your fucking business, Albert! Nothing happened, okay?! Why does no one ever believe me?” With that, the tears that had been welling on his eyes started to fall. Albert felt his heart shatter in his chest, but it was nothing compared to what he felt when he tried to reach for Race and he pushed him away. “Leave me alone.”

Albert was left standing in the middle of the living room as Race shut his bedroom door between them.

***

Later that night, Albert woke to a knock on his bedroom door. He slowly got out of bed and went to open it. Race was standing there, looking miserable. Without saying a word, Albert got back into bed and was relieved to find that Race followed. They immediately found each other in the dark, arms around one another, Race’s head underneath Albert's chin. Years of being best friends also meant years of cuddling their worries away. The position was almost second nature to Albert.

He brushed a hand through Race's hair, smoothing the wild curls on his nape. Race smelled of fabric softener and cigarettes.

He almost didn't hear it when Race whispered. “I'm sorry.”

His voice was tired and he sounded like he had been crying. Albert held him a little closer.

“Want to talk about it?” Albert whispered against Race’s hair. Race nodded but said nothing. Albert waited.

Eventually, Race’s hands started fidgeting with the hem of Albert's sleeping shirt and he took a deep breath.

“This afternoon I had an argument with Spot. A big argument, you could call it a fight, even.” His fingers brushed Albert's collarbone softly. Albert's breath caught. “It wasn't pretty. There was a lot of shouting. He said awful things, I said awful things... I don't wanna repeat it all.”

“What was- what was it about?”

Race didn't answer for a moment and Albert was afraid he might never do it, but finally he murmured a word against Albert's shirt.

“You.”

Albert was sure he’d heard it wrong. Why would Race and Spot argue about him? He tried to think of any rational reason and he came up with none. Race started tracing circular patterns on his chest and Albert hoped he couldn't feel his heart beating faster.

“Why?” It was all he could think.

Race let out a sad chuckle. “He’s jealous of you, Albert. Thinks I spend too much time with you and not enough with him. Like I’m the one who's always too damn busy to see my boyfriend.” He said it sadly, but he had a point. Spot had always more important things to do than seeing Race. Albert despised him.

“What did you tell him?” He hoped Race had confronted Spot, told him about this, but somehow he knew he hadn't.

“I told him you’re my best friend and that I won't stop spending time with you just because he feels threatened or whatever.”

“If that's a problem I can step aside.” It hurt Albert to say it, but he knew it was the right thing to say. Race pushed back to look him in the eye, incredulous expression on his face.

“Are you crazy?! In any case, I’m gonna spend even  _ more _ time with you just to piss him off.” His grin was dazzling. Albert thanked the darkness in the room for hiding his raging blush.

“You’re a menace, you know that?”

“Yeah, you tell me daily.”

Satisfied with his statement of purpose, Race burrowed against Albert's chest again. They stayed silent for a while, just holding each other the way they had so many times before.

After, Albert wouldn't be able to tell if it was real concern or pure masochistic impulse that had made him ask it, but it was out of his mouth before he knew it.

“Do you love him?”

For a moment he thought that Race had fallen asleep and had never heard the question.  _ It's for the better _ , he told himself. But then Race shifted slightly in his arms and Albert realized he was shrugging.

“I don't know. I think I could.” He said it like it terrified him. Albert felt confusion well up inside him. On one hand, Race was saying there was a possibility of him loving Spot, and that made his heart sink. On the other, he didn't seem too thrilled by the idea, which made Albert's heart flutter with something too similar to hope.

He didn't know what to say, so he just held Race tight and willed his heart to beat at a normal pace. Eventually Race's breath evened out and he started snoring softly, his hands clutching Albert's shirt. Albert pressed a kiss to the top of his head and tried to fall asleep too.

He must have succeeded, because the next thing he knew, he was waking in an empty bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My characters are mostly based on the tour cast because I love those boys smh


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albert has a chat with David, everyone gets drunk and shenanigans ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally twice as long as the first chapter but please bear with me.

“Do you think I need a haircut?” 

Albert stared at Race in the mirror as he finished buttoning up his shirt. Race was laying on Albert's bed, limbs spread wide, staring at the ceiling. His head popped up and he returned Albert's gaze.

“What?”

Albert rolled his eyes at him and went back to trying to make his hair stay away from his face. “My hair. Is it too long?”

Lately it had started to curl behind his ears and he had to comb it back to keep it from falling in his eyes all the time. He heard Race move and then he was standing behind him in the mirror. His hands came to rest on Albert's shoulders and he coaxed him to turn around. Albert was starting to regret his question because now Race was staring intensely at him and it made his skin prickle.  _ His eyes are so blue, damn.  _

“I think I prefer it long.” Race tugged on Albert's hair with a grin. “Easier to pick on you.”

Albert rolled his eyes again and groaned. “I hate you.”

“No, you don't.” 

“I wish I hated you.”

“No, you  _ don't. _ ” Race’s fond smile was almost too much to handle.

“Do too.”

Race patted his cheek before going out the door to his room. “ _ Do not! _ ” He yelled from there.

“Shut up and get dressed, you moron!” They were supposed to go out with the boys in half an hour and Race was still wearing nothing but a tank top and underwear. 

Race laughed loudly and Albert heard him going through his dresser. “I got nothing to wear!” 

Albert sighed and threw himself on the bed. “Anthony Racetrack Higgins, if you're not dressed and ready to go in fifteen minutes I’m gonna punch you in the face!”

“Fine,  _ mom! _ ”

With a groan, Albert threw his arm over his eyes. He was already dreading the night out and it hadn’t even begun. It had been a month since Race’s fight with Spot and things had not yet gone back to normal. They were still dating, but things were tense and Race came home looking tired and miserable. Race had dragged Albert out several times and had gotten terribly wasted every single one of them. 

His anxiety spiked up at the prospect of having to deal with a drunk Race again tonight. Drunk Race tended to get into fights, flirt with anyone who so much as looked at him and, what was even worse, lately he had started flirting with Albert. If Albert had to hear one more time just how pretty his freckles were he might have to kiss Race, and he knew they would both regret it.

Besides, if he kissed Race, Spot would kill him.

A soft knock on his door brought him back to his senses. Race was standing there, worried look on his face while he fidgeted with the hem of his button up. “You okay?”

Albert mentally scolded himself for worrying him and tried to give him a reassuring smile.  _ I'm stupidly in love with you and you won't give so much as a second glance unless you're drunk, but it doesn't matter because you've got a boyfriend, I'm peachy.  _ “Just feeling a little anxious is all. I’ll be fine.”

Race gave him a little nod and gestured to the front door. “Shall we go, then?” 

“Are we going to be stylishly late?” Albert knew Race loved to make an entrance.

“We're going to be dramatically early thanks to your insistence that we be on time,” said Race with an exaggerated sigh.

“Tragic.” Albert's mood was still sour, but he could manage another night out if it meant Race would smile at him like that again.

***

In the end, they were just on time, which meant they were ten minutes early because all their friends were jerks who couldn't even get to places on time. 

Race and Albert picked their usual booth and waited for them to arrive. Race was restless. In the span of three minutes he tore a napkin into pieces, managed to drop his keys on the floor four times and kicked Albert countless times more. Albert was about to kick him back  _ hard _ for good measure when he stood up. “I'm going to order, do you want anything?”

Albert considered it for a moment. It was too early to start drinking and it wasn't like he was eager to get drunk. He shook his head. “I'm good, thanks.”

Race shrugged and made for the bar. Albert's eyes followed him as he perched himself on the counter and smiled charmingly at the waitress. He ignored the lurch of jealousy his heart gave when the waitress batted his eyelashes back at Race with a small smile.  _ Keep it, he’s taken _ , he wanted to scream at her. 

“You’re staring.” Albert jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned to see Jack smiling knowingly at him while he sat next to him on the booth. David gave him a small wave and sat opposite of them.

“What do you mean?” Albert tried to play it cool but he knew his red cheeks betrayed him. Jack and David exchanged a look and Jack burst out laughing. Albert was  _ not  _ jealous. 

“You’re looking like you either want to murder her or make out with him.” Jack's smile was wicked and Albert wanted to punch it out of his face. It must have shown on his face because Jack put his hands up in defense and said. “Don't look at me like that! I'm just reporting a fact. Besides, it's not that bad, Dave used to give me the same look.”

An indignant sound came from David and he threw a napkin at Jack. “I did  _ not! _ ”

Jack laughed. “But babe, you did!” 

David stuck his tongue out at him.

“You two make me sick.” Albert buried his face in his arms. That just made them laugh harder.

“Don't sweat it,” Jack said, patting his head.

“Hey guys, what’re you talking about?” Race had made it back to the booth. Albert didn't lift his head, he didn't feel like seeing him just yet. A hand nudged his arm. “You okay over there?”

Albert didn't need to lift his head to know another look had been shared above him. 

Jack cleared his throat and pat his head again.  _ I'm gonna kill him.  _ “Albert here was complaining about his lack of love life.”

“He does seem a bit lonely, don't you think?” Asked David. The traitor.  _ I'm gonna kill both of them _ . 

He dared to sneak a glance at Race. He looked like was actually considering it. His brow was furrowed and he was toying with his beer. He shot Albert a worried look. “It's true you haven't seen anyone in a while…”

_ Because I'm in love with you, you idiot,  _ Albert wanted to scream it in his face. Instead he just shrugged. 

Jack wasn't letting the topic drop. “You know, I got this friend… I think you would like him. What do you say, Albert? Wanna meet him?”

“Fuck off.”

“Now, don't gotta be insulting. I was just tryinna-”

“Jack.” He was interrupted by Race. Albert's head shot up. Race was staring seriously at Jack, hand on his arm. “Drop it.”

Jack gave him a surprised look, but nodded. Race turned back to Albert with a small smile and suddenly Albert felt like getting very drunk. “I need a drink.” 

“I'm coming with you.” David was already standing up. 

They made it to the bar in silence. Albert wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. He liked David, he was awkward and smart and didn't try to pressure Albert into making small talk. He knew David had bad anxiety and that made him feel a bit better about his own. He must have been staring, because David gave him a small smile.

“Sorry about that,” said David. Albert just stared at him. “You know Jack, sometimes he just doesn't know when to stop.”

“It’s okay.” He was surprised to see he meant it. “Try living with Race a couple weeks and you tell me.”

“He’s a nice guy.” 

Albert looked at the booth, where Jack and Race were arguing passionately about something. They both had smiles on their faces and were gesticulating wildly. When he looked back at David he saw he was staring at the booth too. His face was lit with the fondest smile Albert had ever seen and he realised with a jolt that David must be staring at Jack. He wondered if he looked like that when staring at Race.

“You really love him, don't you?” 

David startled and looked at his shoes, flushing deeply. “I do.”

“Lucky you.” Albert tried not to sound bitter, but he couldn't hide the jealousy lodged in his tone. 

“You know, if you ever want to talk about how much being in love with your best friend sucks, I think I know a thing or two about the topic,” said David. Albert considered him. He remembered the days when Jack was dating Katherine and David was downright miserable. Maybe talking to him would actually help.

“How did you do it? And I don't mean getting him to date you. How did you stand seeing him with Katherine every day?” Race didn't even see Spot every day and yet Albert could barely stand it.

David let out a small sigh. “I told myself that he was happy and that that was all that mattered.”

_ If only I could say so.  _ Albert was positive that Race wasn't happy with Spot. Not as happy as he could be, at least. 

“You think he's not happy with Spot,” David said. It wasn't a question.  _ Can he read minds now? _ Albert tentatively nodded. David sighed again. “Spot is not a bad guy. Don't give me that look, he isn't.”

“He doesn't deserve him.” Albert growled. He looked at Race again. Some other boys had started to arrive and he was talking excitedly to Jojo. 

“I think Spot isn't ready for a relationship. At least not something as serious as Race expects from him.” David eyed him intensely. Albert shifted nervously and avoided David's eyes. “If you want me to be honest with you, I’m not sure it's going to last much longer.”

Albert glared suspiciously at him. Was he saying that to make Albert feel better? To give him false hope? David held his gaze. He had ditched his glasses tonight and looked even more earnest without them. “I hope you're right, Davey.”

“Oh, I’m always right,” David said with an easy smile.  _ He's learned that from Jack.  _ David wouldn't have been that confident a couple of years ago.

“Davey! Albert! Stop being boring and come here!” Jack was waving them over to their booth full of people. A knot formed in Albert's stomach but he ignored it. These people were his friends. Albert caught David rolling his eyes but didn't miss the fond smile returning to his lips.

Albert somehow ended sitting pressed between Race and Jojo. Race immediately threw his arms around his neck and pressed himself to Albert. “I missed you, what were you doing?” He whispered in Albert's ear. Albert suppressed a shiver as he tried to put some space between them, which only made Race move so close he was practically sitting on Albert's lap. 

A few beers were on the table before them and Race looked positively drunk.  _ Damn you, you lightweight idiot. _ “Race, you're drunk.”

“Nuh-huh, just tipsy,” said Race with a pout. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were shiny and Albert had to resist the urge to kiss him right there. He sent David a silent cry for help but David only smiled in encouragement before a pretty drunk Jack pulled him in for a kiss. Albert groaned. 

“You're always so grumpy. I like it when you smile, you got a cute dimple. Here.” Race poked his cheek, then seemed to consider it a moment and planted a kiss there too. Albert's face was burning. Race looked too satisfied with himself so Albert poked his side in retaliation. Race let out a squeal and buried his face in Albert's neck.  _ This is gonna be a long night. _

The thought came to Albert that if he was going to have to deal with this all night he might as well get drunk too. He started working on his own beer, cursing his luck. 

An hour and a half and five beers later Albert was feeling much better. Race had dozed off with his head on Albert's shoulder and Jojo was telling him about a new commission he was working on when Jack stood up and demanded attention. He had that leader aura that made everyone look at him expectantly. Albert caught a glimpse of David's lovestruck expression and smiled slightly.

“'lright fellas, I heard there's this new club a coupla blocks from here, what do you say we go and see if it's worth all the fuss?”

His proposal was met with general approval. Their group started to leave the booth following Jack. Albert watched as Kid Blink pulled an unconvinced Mush along. He also saw Specs and Romeo chatting and standing way too close as they made it out the door.

“You better wake him up,” said Jojo, pointing at Race’s still sleeping form.

“Yeah, you go ahead, we’ll catch you in a couple of minutes.” 

Jojo nodded and ran out to catch up with Finch, who was currently at the door.

Albert poked Race's side again and tried not to laugh as Race made a small, angry noise and batted his hand away.

“Race, wake up.” He poked him again. “C’mon, Racer, people are leaving.”

Race mumbled something that sounded like  _ stupid people _ and lifted his head from Albert's shoulder. For a moment he looked confused, bleary eyes darting around, until he focused on Albert and smiled lazily at him. “G’morning.”

“It's almost one am, I wouldn't call it morning exactly,” Albert said, already putting on his coat. 

“Where’s everyone?” Asked Race, looking around at the empty booth. He looked tired and disoriented.

“They went to this club Jack mentioned. We don't have to go if you're tired.”

Race perked up at this, grabbing his jacket and standing up. “Are you kidding? I'm all in. Let's hit this club!”

He was out the door in a heartbeat. Albert counted. On five he was sticking his head in again, embarrassed look on his face. “Where did you say the club was, again?”

***

“Okay, so this is how it’ll go: salt, then lime, then shot!” Jack shouted above the music. They had been doing shots for a while and Albert felt fuzzy. He wondered if the room was supposed to spin like that. He grabbed onto Race's arm because his feet were not listening to him. Race smiled at him and Albert smiled back. Race’s smile was really nice.

He watched as Jack licked a stripe of salt from David's neck and then dove in for the lime David was holding in his mouth. He was supposed to take a shot after, but he never made it. Instead he spat the lime and then they were making out. Albert hollered with the rest of his friends and heard Race yell  _ get a room! _ , too. 

Albert wanted to tell Race something, he wasn't sure what, but the words died in his mouth as Race pushed him against the counter. He watched, mesmerized, as Race picked a slice of lime and placed it in between Albert's lips. The salt stuck easily to Albert's sweaty skin and Albert still wasn't sure he wasn't dreaming when Race bent over and traced a line up Albert's neck with his tongue. Their lips brushed when Race pulled on the lime and Albert felt a rush travel all over his body. Race downed his shot and kissed Albert.

Albert was distantly aware of their friends yelling in the background, but none of it mattered, because Race was kissing him. He was definitely dreaming. Race kissed like he did everything else, hard and unapologetically, nibbling on Albert's lower lip and driving him crazy. He tasted of tequila and lime, and beneath that Albert felt the stale taste of cigarettes. Albert buried his hands in Race’s curls and kissed him back, standing on his tiptoes to have a better access to Race’s mouth. Race’s arms wrapped around his waist and pressed their bodies flush together.

It was over too fast. Race pulled back and Albert was glad to see his cheeks were as red as Albert's felt. His hair was a mess and Albert realised it was him who had done that. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Race was already turning around, being pulled into the crowd by Henry and leaving Albert standing at the bar, his head spinning.

***

The next morning Albert woke up with a throbbing headache.  _ I'm never drinking again, _ he thought as he let out a groan and rolled over. He registered that he was in his bed and was not wearing yesterday's jeans. He congratulated his drunk self for being so considerate to his hungover self. 

He reached for his phone and groaned again when the bright light hit his face. The bright numbers in the screen said it was well past noon. Squinting, he checked his texts. He had several from last night, mostly drunk nonsense, but the one that caught his attention was one from Jack from a few hours ago.

_ Jack Kelly: it was a pleasure knowin u :) _

Albert had time to type back a few question marks before Race busted into his room, landing on top of Albert with an ungraceful  _ thump. _

“Fuck, Race, do you wanna kill me?” But Race was already shoving his phone on Albert's face.

“ _ Have you seen this?! _ ” He yelled. Albert winced at the loud sound and tried to focus on the picture Race was showing him.

It was dark and a little blurry but Albert thought he recognized Race. That shouldn't be a problem. The problem was that Race was kissing someone, and that someone wasn't Spot. In fact, Albert thought with a surge of terror, that red hair looked suspiciously like…

“Oh, fuck.” 

Race nodded gravely. “Oh, fuck is correct.”

A jolt of fear shook Albert. “Is this on…?”

“Facebook, Instagram, everywhere.”

Suddenly Jack’s text made a lot more sense. Albert took another look at the picture. His hands were in Race’s hair and he was standing on his tiptoes. Race had both arms around him. It looked like a pretty good kiss. “I’m so fucked.”

Race let out a humorless laugh. “ _ You _ are so fucked? I'm the one whose boyfriend is gonna see this.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the one whom your boyfriend is gonna kill, so…”

“Do you remember any of it?”

Albert tried to summon any memory from the night before but he came away with none. He shook his head. “The last thing I remember is getting into the club. What about you?”

Race also shook his head. “Everything is blank.” 

Albert covered his face with his hands. “Did it really happen if none of us remembers it?” He asked through his fingers.

Race laughed and rolled over to lie next to him. “I'm very tempted to say it didn't, but I don't think it works like that.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

Albert tried to keep his heartbeat steady but he was terrified. He had kissed Race. Race had kissed him. And it hadn't been a chaste peck if the picture was any indicative.  _ Wonderful _ , he thought. He was gonna die for kissing Race and he couldn't even remember if it had been worth it. 

His life was a joke. He had been dreaming of kissing Race for ages, but not like this. Not drunk and impulsively, and definitely not while Race still had a boyfriend. 

“Why would I do that?” He asked no one in particular. 

“Because I’m irresistible and incredibly sexy?” Race propped himself on one elbow and stared down at him with an amused smirk on his lips.

Albert swatted his face away with his hand, praying Race wouldn't see his blush. “You’re a pain in the ass and impossible to put up with.”

Race laughed and grabbed his wrist, pulling until he had dragged Albert half on top of him. The sudden movement made him feel a little dizzy. He was thankful for Race's arms steadying him. He let Race arrange them until he was lying with his head on Race's chest, Race's arms around him. 

It was an unusual position. Albert wasn't used to being the little spoon, and yet, he realised it was just what he needed in that moment. He wasn't sure how Race had figured that out, but was grateful for it either way. One of Race's hands found its way to Albert's hair and he started to card his fingers through it mindlessly. Albert had to resist the urge to purr. 

He didn't want to admit it, but the fear and anxiety that had coursed through him earlier were slowly starting to fade away. He wasn't exactly sure what Race was doing, but he didn't mind. No matter what had happened, he was still his best friend, and Albert was thankful that hadn't changed because of some drunk mistake.

After a while, Race spoke again. “You know it doesn't mean anything right? Friends kiss each other all the time.”

Albert ignored the pang of hurt that those words caused. Of course it meant nothing to Race. To Race, Albert was just his best friend, the boy who had lived next door and had played with him on the fire escape. Nothing out of the ordinary. Race's heart didn't beat faster when he saw Albert, his skin didn't burn every time they touched, he didn't look at Albert and think about kissing him until his lips were bruised. No, it didn't mean a thing to Race because Race was smart enough not to fall in love with his best friend.

Fighting back tears, Albert nodded. He was glad his voice didn't sound to strained when he croaked. “Yeah, it was probably a dare.”

Race laughed, the vibrations shaking Albert. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

***

Albert must have dozed off, because when he woke up again, the light had changed and Race was gone. A glass of water and a couple of painkillers were on his nightstand and Albert felt the stupid urge to cry. 

He sat up in bed and took the painkillers before hugging his knees to his chest and resting his chin atop them. He considered his options. He could either stay here and feel miserable or go out and feel miserable in the couch with something to eat. His empty stomach was very interested in the latter. 

He got out of bed and had just opened his door a crack when he heard voices. He stood frozen where he was, hand still on the doorknob. He knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping, but he didn't have the energy to go outside and see anyone. That's when he heard Spot’s voice.

“There's nothing to talk about, Race.” Albert's stomach churned with anxiety at the hard tone of his voice. “I already told you this was gonna happen. And look, who was right? He kissed you and you let him.” 

Race's voice was small and desperate when he spoke. “It wasn't like that, Spot, please-” 

“No? Well, tell you what, he's lucky he's not here or else he'd be tryinna gimme excuses with a broken nose.” Albert's hand subconsciously flew to cover his nose.

“You don't mean that. Spot, I know you don't really mean that.”

“I’m not the one who kisses other people's boyfriends.” Albert had to admit he had a point.

“Yeah? Well he isn't either because  _ I kissed him _ ! I kissed him because I wanted to, because I’ve been in love with him since I was seven!” Race was screaming now, his voice strained, but Albert wasn't processing. 

His mind vaguely registered Race lying to him about remembering the kiss before it shut down. Race loved him? Albert was dreaming. He was having a very lucid, very realistic dream, because there was no way what he had just heard was true. He didn't hear Spot's next words, but he didn't need to, because Race response was enough.

“We're done, Spot. This wasn't going anywhere, either way. I'm sorry.” He truly sounded sorry, but above anything else, he just sounded tired. Albert had to fight the urge to run to him and hug him.

“You're not breaking up with me,” said Spot, incredulous. Albert almost felt pity for him, then he remembered he had threatened to break his nose and all pity was replaced with anger.

Race let out an audible sigh. “I'm afraid I am. Please, Spot, just go.”

Albert expected Spot to put up a fight, to scream and tell Race to let him stay, but he was either more sensible than Albert thought him to be or he was angrier that he sounded, because a few moments later Albert heard the front door open and close.

Albert stood there, unsure of what to do. He didn't want Race to know he had been listening, but he needed to talk to him. He looked down at his bare legs and decided that the first sensible thing to do now was putting on pants. He put on a pair of sweats that were discarded on the floor and ventured out of his room.

The living room was empty, so was the kitchen. Albert had a hunch and went to the fire escape. Race was there, smoking as he watched the sunset. The bright light lit up his hair, making it look like a burning halo around his head. He took a drag of the cigarette and exhaled slowly, the smoke forming a cloud before disappearing. 

The metal was cold under Albert's feet as he approached Race. Without saying a word, he stood beside him and rested his arms on the railing. Race offered him the cigarette and Albert took a silent drag, watching as the smoke unfurled and danced. Neither of them said anything for a while, they just stood side by side and watched as the sun disappeared behind the city line.

Eventually, Albert had to say it. “You lied to me.”

Race let out a sigh and ran his hand down his face. “I lie about a lot of things.”

An idea came to Albert's head. “The argument you had with Spot, it wasn't about me, was it?”

“It was, sort of. Spot wasn't worried about me spending time with you, he was worried about me being in love with you.” Albert's heart gave a small jump at those words.

“And last night?” Race didn't answer that. Albert let him think.

“Do you remember when we used to come out and play on the fire escape?” Race’s voice was soft, tired. Albert took another drag.

“You always wanted to win, no matter what game we played.” 

Race smiled slightly. “The first time I met you I ran home and told my mom I was gonna marry you. I told her: I met the most beautiful boy, today, his hair is  _ red _ !” He laughed sadly. “I still think that.”

Albert stared at him, shocked. He remembered the first time he had seen Race on the fire escape of his mother's old flat. He had been playing cards alone, sitting on the floor. When Albert had asked what he was doing he had just shrugged and asked him if he wanted to play with him. They had spent that afternoon and all the afternoons that followed playing together. When Albert got home that first night he had thought that his new friend looked like one of the angels in his mother's church books.

“Race, I…” Albert wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Race shook his head and turned to face him. His eyes were red and there were tear tracks on his cheeks.

“What I’m trying to say is that I understand if I fucked up. I shouldn't have kissed you last night. Hell, I shouldn't have let myself fall for you in the first place, but what can I say? I can never walk away from a bad hand.” His smile was so self deprecating it almost broke Albert's heart.

Without thinking, Albert threw his arms around him and pressed his face to Race's chest. He felt tears threatening to spill and he let them fall. He cried because this was his best friend, his stupid, wonderful, amazing best friend who had just said stupid and wonderful things and Albert's heart was about to explode because of how full it felt.

A hand stroked his hair and Race asked. “Did I fuck up so badly?”

Albert let out a wet laugh. “You're an idiot.”

“Yeah, I knew that, but this idiot would like to know if he still gets to be your friend.”

Albert pushed away so he could look Race in the eye, but didn't let go. Race stared at him, his face confused, and Albert had to laugh again.

“You're an idiot,” he repeated, “because I’ve been in love with you since I knew what love was and you think I'm gonna fucking stop being your friend.”

If Albert could have stopped time he would have done it right then, because the face Race made when he realized what Albert was telling him deserved to be immortalized forever. 

“Are you saying- All this time we could- Oh my God, tell me I can kiss you right now because I'm not sure I can stand it any longer.” 

Albert laughed and nodded, not trusting his voice not to break, and then Race was cupping his face with his hands and pressing their lips together.

This was the kiss Albert had dreamed of all his life. Race's hands were cold on his cheeks, but Race's lips were warm on his own. He could feel Race's heart beating frantically in his chest and when Albert stood on his tiptoes to kiss him better Race let out a sigh and circled his waist with his arms. Race bit softly on his bottom lip and Albert let his hands wander to Race's hair, tangling his fingers on the soft curls at his nape.

Eventually, Albert's feet started to freeze and he forced himself to pull away. Race whined and chased after him, eyes still closed. Albert laughed. “Stop it, you moron, my feet are freezing.”

“But you don't need your feet to kiss me.”

“Anthony Higgins, if I catch a cold because your stupid ass can't wait two minutes to kiss me I swear I’m gonna-” he was cut off by Race pecking him on the lips. He was grinning like an idiot.

“I love it when you use my full name. Now let's get you inside so I can kiss you senseless.” 

Albert blushed but let Race pull him inside to their warm home.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, look at you, you made it to the end! Just wanted to let you know that you are amazing and I'm super thankful to you for giving this fic a chance.
> 
> Also, im in tumblr @thewintersobber, my blog is not mainly musicals, but if you feel like dropping by and screaming about Albert Dasilva or Sky Flaherty know that you are welcome there.
> 
> Have a nice day and I hope you pet a dog today!


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